Take My Hand
by LillyAccountabilibuddy
Summary: Kyle is afraid of losing Stan. I'm working with dialogue skills, so don't judge me too harshly. : Warnings inside and such.


_Take My Hand_

This is based on the Simple Plan song, "Take My Hand." I really DO NOT like this story. I really REALLY hate it. Why did I write it? Because I desperately need to practice with dialogue. Oh god, I really think this is BAD work. If I get a better story, I think I'll go ahead and delete this. I just want to keep this for practice. Not to mention, it was my horrible idea to write this when I can barely sit up. I was too tired to deal with any sort of word choice and metaphorical talk. **AGHH**!

**WARNINGS:** Language

Read with an open mind. Don't judge harshly.

* * *

The whispers surround us like an ocean of shock and confusion. I feel myself start to shake under the pressure, but Stan tightens his grip on my shoulder to give me a small burst of confidence. Of course, I knew this was coming. Stan and I had planned this day for weeks. Sick of hiding and lying to everyone, we decided to come out about our relationship. This just wasn't exactly how I planned it, around all these people. My idea was to tell Bebe Stevens, who would spread it to her four friends and get the job done for us. Stan, however, said he wanted people to hear straight from the bird's mouth, or whatever the phrase is. Looking at the faces of Wendy, who's furious, Cartman, who's laughing, and the others who seem a little surprised, I really wish they'd heard it from her. This idea was braver, however, and whatever we do, we have to stick together.

"This is just too good," Cartman gasps, clutching at his oversized stomach, "You two were queers from the beginning."

His words bounce off of us meaninglessly. We'd predicted his reaction; it was everyone else's opinion that mattered.

The party that had been so loud not moments ago has turned silent. I look at Stan's parents, avoiding the faces of my own. Randy looks utterly shocked while Sharon looks pleased. She's always thought that I was a good influence on her son, and I wasn't sure this would be an example of that.

Kenny is making sexual signals at Stan as my eyes roam over him. When I meet his gaze, he quickly drops his hands and gives me an innocent smile. I return a sarcastic smirk and try not to roll my eyes. Kenny, I think, has known all along. Apparently he's been badgering Stan about me constantly. Even though the guy's never been in a serious relationship, I do think he knows the signs.

The person I feel worst for is Wendy, who I look at next. She was Stan's girlfriend up until last month, when he and I started going out. I know how much she cares for him and I feel like crap for being in the way. Her expression isn't furious or heartbroken, though, like I expected. Her lips are turned into a small, sad smile and she looks at me. I give her the most apologetic look I can muster and she closes her eyes and shakes her head. Is it possible she knew as well?

I can only bear to look at my parents moments later, when the volume starts to gradually increase. Unfortunately, it's just as I foretold. Mom is whispering agitatedly into my father's ear as he just nods his head in comfort. It's obvious that she's pissed, but I know that she'll get over it. She just had so many plans for a sweet Jewish daughter-in-law and grandkids that looked like me. One of the first things I considered before getting with Stan was her response.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Stan asks, turning to face me.

Relief washes over me and I let out a small laugh. "No, it wasn't. You knew it wouldn't be, though."

"I actually had no clue," he admits sheepishly, "I kinda thought your mom would explode at us, but she was polite enough to do it quietly."

I snicker and shake my head. "I don't think it'll be so quiet when I get home."

"Wanna sleep over tonight?" he offers, always the gentleman.

"I think I should face the music while I'm still confident," I reply hesitantly, embracing him into a hug.

He holds me close only for a few moments before we break apart. It's one of those neighborhood family parties where if you show any kind of affection, old people start muttering to each other about how teenagers were different from the dinosaur age. Sometimes I wonder if they know what _really _goes on at parties, with the sex and drinking and such. Stan smiles and pulls away.

"Do you wanna get the hell out of here? Now that it's all said and done, this party kinda…" We're interrupted by the arrival of Kenny, Cartman, Token, and Clyde.

Cartman snorts at our closeness. "Just curious," he says, "but Kyle's the bitch, right?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snap.

Kenny grins. "I think he wants to know who's on top."

"We're… you… that's not your business, fat ass!" I bark at him, feeling red crop up on my face.

"You're just pissed 'cause your ass is sore," Cartman retorts, twisting the cap off of a Coke bottle.

I roll my eyes and fold my arms. "Fuck you, it is not."

"You're probably right," Cartman says casually, "I bet Stan's stretched you out plenty of times."

"What, what, WHAT?" we hear behind him, and I see my mother towering above us.

Cartman shoots me a devious grin. "Why, Mrs. Broflovski, I'm just ensuring your son's safety. You wouldn't want him with one of those kinky, pain loving…"

"Enough!" she exclaims, putting a hand up in front of his face. "Kyle, may we speak to you outside?"

I crane my neck and see Dad behind her. This is good; it's better when I'm not alone with her. "Um, I guess," I say, looking back at Stan. We go to follow her, but Mom stops again.

"Not him," she says, pointing at Stan.

He falls back and I glance back at him with more courage than I actually feel. When we finally get outside, Mom turns me to face her and makes sure nobody else is looking. "Yeah, Mom?"

"Kyle, I honestly can't believe this," she begins, "You had such a bright future!"

I sigh and cross my arms. "I still do, Ma. Stan won't change that."

"Nobody's going to accept you," she rambles, completely ignoring my input, "You're going to be the outcast I tried to keep you from being."

"I won't be an outcast," I argue nonchalantly, but she prowls through.

"This is my fault," she says, "I knew you were too close to that Marsh boy. It was unhealthy how you two stuck together."

A twinge of anger brings my voice back. "There's nothing unhealthy about me and Stan's relationship."

"Oh, Kyle, honey, you're so confused. You'll see, we'll send you to someone, a specialist, and they can help. You're just going through a phase, Kyle."

I know she's reassuring herself more than she is me. "You're not sending me anywhere," I tell her, "It's not going to change. And I think things would be a lot easier if you accepted it. You don't have to make things harder than they already are." I rehearsed this part with Stan earlier today. I didn't think I'd actually remember it, though.

"But it can change, Kyle, you just think you're…"

"No Ma, you're the one who is confused. I've been with Stan for a little over a month now, and I realized long before that that I liked him the way most guys like girls. I've had weeks to contemplate this, and you've only had a few minutes. You'll understand in time."

She's in shock for a moment, trying to register my words. "Kyle, this isn't what you want. You're too young to know…"

"I'm not young!" I interrupt again, "I'm eighteen! In a few months, I'll be going off to college! You can't tell me what I can and can't do anymore!"

I can tell that my last sentence upset her. That can either be a good thing or it could be my death. "Kyle, you listen to me. I am your mother, and I say that…"

"Sheila," Dad cut in, finally making a move. Really, it's about time. "Kyle's right. It's his life, and he chooses what to do with it. The only say we have is whether we support him or not. Maybe we should take into consideration that he's our son."

"I realize that, but…"

"And that you're an active member of the gay rights movement."

I could've smiled at that last part. Dad really knows how to get her. Mom stares at me for almost five minutes, as if she can worm into my brain and force Stan out of it. I just wait patiently for her to say something, but she only huffs and walks away.

Dad puts his hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Kyle. She'll come around."

"I know," I say quietly, "Thanks Dad."

He claps his hand on my back and follows Mom to the car, where he'll no doubt reason with her until she begrudgingly gives in. Stan, who must've been watching from the window, shows up not one minute later.

"That didn't look good. I couldn't hear. What happened?" he asks quickly.

I shrug. "Mom's pissed, but Dad says he'll get her to come around."

"Sorry Ky," Stan apologizes, "I didn't think…"

"Don't worry about it," I cut him off, grabbing his hand. "Even if she never understands, we'll still have each other. Right?"

Sometimes I feel like everybody's got a problem

_Sometimes I feel like nobody wants to solve them  
__I know that people say we're never gonna make it  
__But I know we're gonna get through this_

Me and Stan's relationship is at the top of the gossip list. We walk through the halls, ignoring all the stares and whispers that follow us, avoiding people who tease us. In less than a month, we'll be out of these halls and hopefully away from these people.

When I sit down in second hour, Bebe Stevens grabs the seat right next to mine, eager for the hearsay. "So, I heard you and Stan got a thing going on," she whispers. See?

"It's more than a thing. He's my boyfriend," I tell her pointedly, lending her the pencil I know she'll ask for.

She rolls her eyes and smirks. "Oh, like it matters. Wendy talked to me about it back when she first thought Stan got along better with you than with her. I actually never thought you two would get together."

I look at her with mild surprise. "You didn't?" I ask, "Why not? Me and Stan have a lot in common."

"Well, didn't you ever think that it's too good to be true?" she inquires quietly.

My jaw automatically drops for a response, but I stop halfway there. Stan really is the perfect boyfriend. Maybe… eerily perfect? No, that's just the kind of guy he is. It's not like I randomly fell in love with him. I fell in love with him because he's perfect. "No, I haven't."

She raises an eyebrow. "Hmm. I'm just thinking out loud. Maybe I'm just jealous."

I smile and lean back. "Of course you would be. Stan's smart, athletic, and handsome. All the girls are after him."

"No," she says, looking at me strangely, "I didn't mean jealous of you, I meant jealous of him."

My smile fades and I look at her curiously. "Huh?"

"Never mind."

I shake my head and return to my work, trying to contemplate whatever she just said. Maybe this is why I don't like girls; they're so confusing.

An hour later in Latin, I have another weird conversation with Kenny. The class is about half over when Kenny takes his usual seat next to me, smelling suspiciously of cigarettes. For a while, neither of us bother to say anything, but I can tell that he's got something on his chest. After the whole showdown with Bebe, I'm not sure I want to deal with any more talking, but nonetheless, he speaks after a short while.

"Kyle?"

Oh god. He didn't even say something cocky. I know this means something bad. "Yeah Ken?" I reply casually.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I've been worried about the whole… you and Stan thing." Oh, who called that? I called that; I hit it right on the head.

"Do you?" I say apathetically, continuing to highlight parts of my notes.

"Yeah, man. You remember back before they started up again, that roll Stan was on?" he asks.

I nod. "Err… I don't know what you're talking about, actually."

"Come on, man," Kenny says, "He had, like, six girlfriends in one year. Every girl in the school drooled after him. Most of his hookups would happen when he was drunk and some girl would seduce him. Almost every single one of those girls said their hearts were broken."

I shake my head. "So? What's that got to do with me?"

"Stan… he's not good with commitment. It doesn't help that he's got all these temptations around him. Even he and Wendy, who were really serious, had lots of trouble. Just… don't get too into it, okay?"

"Ken, I trust Stan. That means if he screws me over, it's my fault. But for some reason, I don't think he will."

His annoyed sigh is audible, despite his attempt to hide it. "Fine. But is that enough?"

"It is for me," I reply.

He shakes his head, as though he's convinced that I'm making the wrong decision. It gets to me more than Bebe's accusations did. Kenny's been my friend since I was a little kid, and I've never seen him talk seriously about something. He's always been smart about sex and love and stuff. It makes me wonder… am I really just being too stubborn to see some mistake I'm making?

After Latin, I escape before Kenny can corner me and find myself rushing to Stan's locker. Even moving against the traffic of students, I still manage to get there before Stan himself does. My confusion and fear must show on my face, because he automatically hugs me and wants to know what's wrong. I look into his eyes, and I don't want to tell him. Everything between us is so sacred, it seems horrible for me to doubt him for even a second. His blue eyes are filled with love and concern, and I don't know how I can feel suspicious at all.

"Stan… people are saying… everyone's saying… it's not going to work… that something's going to happen and that… I don't know… I don't want to lose you."

He doesn't say anything for a while and just looks at me, not with betrayal or hurt, but just with thought. Even my seemingly psychic understanding of him can't tell me what's on his mind. Just when I'm about to explode and ask him, he speaks. "Kyle, I love you. Really, I do. I've never said it to Wendy or any other girl except for that "love you," you give when you hang up on the phone. I promise you that you're not going to lose me. I'm just as scared of losing you. You just… just gotta stick with me. We have to stick together."

I simply smile at him, relief bringing me back to life. I throw my arms around him and kiss him, giving my response.

_Close your eyes and please don't let me go  
__Close your eyes, don't let me let you go  
__Take my hand tonight  
__Let's not think about tomorrow  
__Take my hand tonight  
__We can find some place to go  
_'_Cause our hearts are locked forever  
__And our love with never die  
__Take my hand tonight  
__One last time_

That night, Stan and I are driving down to Stark's Pond in his Honda, the radio playing quietly as we talk. He drives right out onto the grass and up to the pond, where we get out. "Stan, really, was that necessary? You flattened all the grass."

"Well, nobody likes grass that itches their ankles anyway."

I laugh and look at the sky, where the stars are more than visible. Stan knows I like to look at the night sky, and always tries to point out constellations to impress me. He's never too impressed when I correct him and show him where the constellations really are.

"You know," his voice calls as he approaches behind me, "The light from the stars you see takes, like, ten billion years to get here, so…" I turn to him and grin. "You already knew that, huh?"

I laugh and wrap my arms loosely around his neck. "Did you look that up?"

Stan pulls me closer, his face turning a little bit red. "Sorta…"

"Well, I'm impressed that you went anywhere near an educational source. That really means something to me, Stan."

He gives me a sheepish grin. "If you're calling me dumb, I can push you into the lake."

"And I can take you with me."

Stan gives me a quick peck on the lips. "It's cute how you think you're threatening."

I raise an eyebrow, and I'm suddenly tempted to push him in the water right now. "Think?" I repeat.

"Well, I'm, like, twice your size."

"Oh, are you?" I challenge, giving him a forceful push.

He barely stumbles before he grabs me and rotates us so that I'm closer to the water. "Obviously. The real question is whether you can pull me in there when I push you."

I ram my shoulder into his chest, almost bouncing back off of the rock-hard muscle. "That's not fair, you're a gorilla."

"Oh, you've just insulted me."

"No I didn't!" I gasp as he tries to push me in. I duck under his arms and scramble up the nearest tree, lying across its sturdiest branch.

Stan, who fell to the ground after I vanished, approaches the tree that I'm in. "Well, you're a chimp too. Nothing else can climb a tree that well."

"You lost anyway."

"Did not!" he exclaims, "You cheated!"

I roll my eyes at the childish accusation. "How did I cheat?"

"You ducked!"

"That's a defensive strategy I use."

He puts his hands on his hips. "Oh yeah? What's it called? 'Run Like Hell'?"

"Nope, it's called 'Get To Higher Ground'," I reply.

"That doesn't work, it's too lo- oof!" His sentence is cut off when I jump on him and wrestle him to the ground. He's temporarily weakened because I knocked the wind out of him, so I'm able to keep a steady fight as we get closer to the water.

Of course, he just won't let me win. When he regains his full strength, he picks me up and carries me to the very edge of the pond, even as I pound on his back with my fists. "Any last words, Kyle?"

He makes his final move to push me in, and I clench onto his arm with all of my strength. Despite his efforts to shake me off, he falls into the water with me. We're both plummeted into freezing darkness that paralyzes us for a few seconds before we can work our strength up to swim up again. I emerge only seconds after Stan.

"You bastard," Stan coughs, spitting out water.

I laugh and shake out my hair, flinging some of the water at him. "You started it."

He shivers as he lies in the grass. "Why is the water so cold? Isn't it summer?"

"Dude, you haven't lived here long enough to figure out that it's always cold?"

He glares at me and I smile at him.

"Stan?" I say after a few moments.

His eyes are on the sky. "Yeah, Ky?"

"I've never really had a reputation to uphold," I begin, speaking slowly, "But… you're like, the coolest guy at school. Am I… gonna, like, hurt that?"

He starts laughing loudly, putting his hands behind his head. "Put yourself in my shoes. Would you give up this bond for something as stupid as invites to parties and free fake IDs?"

"You get fake IDs?" I ask, distracted from our conversation.

"Yeah, Token's got a cousin that gets them for free." He blinks and gets back on track. "Sorry, but would you give this bond up for anything?"

I sigh. "No, I wouldn't."

"So, stop _worrying_. Really."

I look at him again, inspecting his dripping face. "Stan?"

"What?"

"I love you."

_The city sleeps and we're lost in the moment  
__Another kiss as we're lying on the pavement  
__If they could see us they would tell us that we're crazy  
__But I know they just don't understand_

That first hellish Monday was the last time I ever doubted our relationship. Stan and I are in love, and that's all I really care about right now. We're going off to college together. We'll be away from almost everyone at school, and anyone who doubts us.

Of course, our hard times aren't over. I still have to wait for my mom to come around, Stan has to get a summer job to get the last bit of money he needs, we both need to work on living arrangements, and still keep some fun in our lives. We'll probably get frustrated, maybe even with each other. But I'm not scared of losing Stan anymore. Our bond is made up of love and held together by trust. To maintain this connection, all I have to do is keep my love and trust. And as I look at Stan right now, trying to fix his microwave oven and repeatedly banging his head on the cabinets above, I don't think it's possible to leave either of those things behind.

_The rain drops, the tears keep falling  
__I see your face and it keeps me going  
__If I get lost, your light's gonna guide me  
__And I know you can take me home_

Okay. Five things I hate about this story.

1. The ending: Seriously, it's too snappy. It's too short. It's just dumb.  
2. I couldn't space between sections very well, so the first one is really long while the last few are really short.  
3. It's hard for me to use thoughtfulness when writing dialogue, and that's why I hate it so much. I really like to use long paragraphs.  
4. Too much MWAH sh** for me. I've never liked these kinds of stories, unless they make me say "AWW!" out loud. This isn't one of those.

Boy, am I negative. I'm just really tired. Sorry about that.

_**-Lilly D. **_


End file.
